#Chapter56

Althea Garcia Hela Silvermoon

Just then, he walks in his glory, void of any emotions on his beautiful face. Even in plain black jeans and a t-shirt, he looked out of this world. Tall. Mysterious. Handsome. He was perfect, whichever way I looked at him.

Even though I hated attention, I craved his. I wanted his blue eyes to look at me for once. To notice the little, me. The insignificant me. In this crowd of werewolves, I wanted him to notice the human, me.

He walks to the middle of all the people with such power as the crowds goes quiet. Then he starts to speak, his voice...